


A Tiny Bit of String

by bunnymaccool



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A little bit of unexplained magic, Alive Hale Family, And he deserves all the good things, Derek Hale is a soft squishy sugarplum, Everybody Lives, Fix-It, M/M, Stiles POV, fluff with a bit of angst, hand-swishy at timelines, including some Hales that I've made up, not season 5 or 6 compatible, setting everything to rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-16 22:27:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15447207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnymaccool/pseuds/bunnymaccool
Summary: The pulling of a single bit of string can sometimes, perhaps, unravel the entire piece of knitting.Sometimes the universe decides it has taken too much... and chooses to give back.





	A Tiny Bit of String

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a Pinch Hit for the [SterekReverseBang 2018](https://sterekreversebang.tumblr.com/). Partnered with the fabulous [ritarmandi](https://ritarmandi.tumblr.com/)  
> Had a great time!!!
> 
> Timeline is sort of hand-wavey... as I didn't watch all the seasons. Please excuse.

 

  
  


The seats lined up in the hallway outside of the Sheriff’s office were vile deathtraps of unforgivable plastic and why-the-fuck-are-you-cold-as-balls metal and Stiles hated them.  _ Hated. Despised.  _ Very passionately, considering how much of his youth had been spent trying for that elusive perfect spine-destroying exact form of pretzeled skeletal manipulation that it was take to effectively be comfortable in the flimsy bastards.  _ God, he really fucking hated these chairs, had he mentioned that recently? _ Probably. Maybe not out loud, but definitely inside his head… or under his breath considering the look he was getting from Maggie behind the front desk. 

 

“Deathtraps.”

 

His sneakers squeaked loudly on the linoleum when he tried to reposition himself for the billionth time, mumbled the word around the cord from his hoodie currently being chewed on vigorously. 

 

“What was that, sweetheart?”

 

_ Holy shit. Blink blink. Back the fuck up, Batman. Where did the adorable grandmother knitting a scarf come from?  _

 

Stiles glanced over towards Maggie but she was currently at the switchboard and unable to answer where the fuck Grandma Moses had suddenly emerged from. He spit the soaked cord out of his mouth and turned on his best Stilinski grin. 

 

“Sorry, ma’am?”

 

She grinned at him indulgently, without even raising her eyes from the rapid-fire swooping of her knitting needles. 

 

“Just wondering if you were alright dear. That was an awful lot of fidgeting. Perhaps a little case of too many ants in the pants? Hmm?”

 

The teen couldn’t help the chuckle that burst forth. 

 

“No, ma’am… just waiting for my dad. He’s the Sheriff.”

 

The diminutive, yet unbearably adorable woman finally lifted her gaze to meet his own. There was a sweet smile on her thinned lips and a little sparkle in her blue eyes. It would probably terrify him normally, but she couldn’t be more than 95 pounds soaking wet… sooooooooo…. 

 

“Oh. I know that, honey. I was just curious if you were here because you’d made some sort of mistake.”

 

A sudden shiver scampered right up Stiles’ spine at her particular choice of wording.  _ Mistake? Jesus, fuck, you dear sweet little woman, you have no idea.  _ The last couple years of his life were rife with fucking mistakes.  People around him have been dying left and right. Some directly because of him. Because he let that douche bag spirit inside. To play. Allison was … well. Allison was all his fault. Along with so many others. 

 

“Horrible things, mistakes.”

 

Stiles startled out of his musings and could only blink at the elder woman in confusion. She leaned forward in her seat conspiratorially and held his gaze like a steel trap. 

 

“Sometimes the universe makes a mistake.  One little, horrible mistake… and it snowballs into something devastating and cruel. A tiny chance meeting or flip of the coin that ends up changing the world. Sometimes in a beneficial way. Or simply to take the course of a person’s life on a different direction. No real harm done.  Every once in a while, though…. Every so often… there’s a real doozy. A single mistake that spider webs out to affect too many people. Destroy too many things. Sometimes… the universe realizes it needs to make amends. To fix a mistake.”

 

She holds his eyes for several moments and Stiles is pretty sure he stops breathing.  _ He’s not really sure what’s going on here… he just understands instinctively that something is.  _  The woman sits back and returns to her knitting. He can’t quite bring himself to look away from the paper thin skin on her hands as the needles swoop and duck through the yarn. Swallows so hard around the lump in his throat that it actually hurts.  The older woman makes a sudden tsking sound and Stiles nearly jumps out of his skin. 

 

“Oh, dear. Would you look at that?”

 

When he focuses on the scarf in her hands there’s a single knot out of place. A bit of yarn sort of just… hanging precariously. 

 

“Would you pull that for me, young man?”

 

His arms won’t move. The hairs at the back of his neck are standing on end. He can only blink at the dangling bit of string with wide eyes. 

 

“Stiles? Don’t you want to fix a mistake?”

 

Head jerking in a ridiculous weeble-wobble sort of a nodding motion, he finally leans forward and carefully just… tugs the little bit of yarn out of the ugly knot it had formed in the scarf. Grandma Moses smiles softly and whispers ‘well done’ right before a backwash of power and energy hits him straight in the face. Everything blinks away instantly to black. 

 

******************************************************************************************

 

When his cell phone suddenly blasts at full volume in his ear, Stiles flails so violently he topples right out of bed. His face smacks directly into a pile of dirty laundry that’s so foul he screeches in horror and rolls almost completely under the bed. The phone keeps trilling from above so he reaches around the mattress blindly until his fingers smack into it. When he slides his thumb across the surface to answer the call he is instantly blessed with the sound of Derek’s voice screaming out of the tiny speaker. 

 

“STILES! STILES!”

 

The older man sounds out of breath and panicked. Stiles vaults himself upward in shock… headfirst into the frame of his bed. 

 

“OW!! FUCK!!”

 

“Stiles! Stiles, please!”

 

Rolling over and groaning, the teen rubs at this forehead tenderly. 

 

“Jesus Christ, Derek… what the hell is going on?”

 

There’s silence on the phone line, save for the werewolf’s panted breathing… and then a strange muffled noise that sounds like a sob. 

 

“Stiles! You know me, right? You know me, Stiles?”

 

_ What. The fuck.  _

 

Derek’s obvious panic is setting all of his nerves on edge. In the two years since he’s known the older man… he’s never heard him sound like this. Similar, yes, and all of those instances are directly related to very, very bad things going down. He softens his voice and tries to calm his heartbeat. 

 

“Of course I know you. Derek… what the hell is going on? Is it the Nemeton? Are those stupid pixies back in the preserve? Or is it something new? You’re wigging me out here!”

 

Each consecutive word that leaves his mouth seems to punch another little sob out of Derek and Stiles is officially freaking the fuck out right now. He’s losing his shit. As apparently is Derek Hale.  _ Seriously. What the fuck? _ The line suddenly goes dead and Stiles pulls the phone away from his ear to stare at it.

 

“He did NOT just hang up on me-”

 

But the window is suddenly being jerked open and Derek is tumbling inside the room in a very rare bout of uncoordinated gracelessness. He’s sweated, and sticky looking. Barely dressed in some flannel ( _ what the fuck? _ ) pajama pants and a white tank top ( _ which was much more Derek-Hale-acceptable _ ). His bare feet are covered in mud and his eyes are approximately the size of dinner plates. Every breath he takes is harsh and painful looking… and Stiles is just frozen stupid for a moment, still laying on the floor of his bedroom half hidden by the bed frame. 

 

Derek looks around frantically until he spots him, then opens his mouth to speak… only to be interrupted by a howl off in the distance and the distinct thump of someone else landing on the ledge outside Stiles’ window. And then…  _ shit you not and swear on the swaddled bottom of baby Je _ s _ us _ … Derek Hale launches forward, clothes practically exploding off his person, and full on fucking shifts into a giant black wolf. 

 

Stiles screeches out a warbled scream as the Derek-wolf dives headfirst straight under the bed and immediately presses itself all along Stiles’ side. His screech turns into a squawk when the Derek-wolf proceeds to shove his face right into Stiles’ armpit, tucking it’s ears back low and burrowing in.  

 

“DUDE!”

 

“Derek!!”

 

More footfalls by the window and when Stiles looks up…. There’s a woman in his room. A somewhat familiar, very attractive woman.  Also apparently wearing pajamas and frantically disheveled. 

 

“Derek! You can’t come in here… this is the Sheriff’s house!”

 

Stiles clears his throat and the woman’s gaze snaps to the floor and meets his. 

 

“… and  _ that  _ would be the Sheriff’s kid… heeeeey… um… Steeeeeve? Right?”

 

Arching a single brow, he cocks his head to the side to look at her in a more condescending manner. 

 

“It’s Stiles, actually… and what the hell are you doing in my room?”

 

She laughs kind of awkwardly and flicks her eyes to the fuzzy black shape tucked up beside him. 

 

“I was um… looking for my… dog. He, uh… likes to jump in people’s windows sometimes, so…”

 

He’s so flummoxed by trying to figure out where he’s seen this female before, that it takes him a minute to realize that Derek is trembling violently against him. The kind of shaking the Stiles remembers very clearly from every panic attack he’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing. He turns his head enough to see the wolf next to him as well as keep the woman in his eye line. 

 

“Derek… you need to calm down. You’re scaring me, dude.”

 

The woman jerks back a little with her eyes wide.

 

“You… you know Derek?”

 

Stiles squints at her. She’s poised for a fight, fingers spread wide like they’re used to accommodating claws, nose slightly turned up and subtly scenting the air.  _ Werewolf. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic.  _ He sighs and scoots out from under the bed. Derek whines after him, tries to stay pressed against Stiles’ side. The pretty lady does not look very evil or intimidating, so he’s really not sure what has Derek so freaked out, but regardless. Stiles reaches between the mattress and box springs of his bed and pulls out his new metal bat. He twirls it once in his hands before pointing the business end to his uninvited guest.  

 

“Friend or foe? State your pack and intentions in the territory.”

 

Derek gives an almost sub vocal whine and the woman just blinks at him in shock. 

 

“Um… what? H-Hale pack…. We live here. How do you  _ know _ ?”

 

Stiles tsks at her and shakes his head. 

 

“Sorry, lady… I know the Hale pack… and you aren’t one of them. Now-”

 

A giant maw of a mouth is suddenly pulling at his sleeve desperately and he stops speaking to turn towards the Derek-wolf. 

 

“What, man?”

 

The wolf continues to pull until Stiles can’t help but flop back onto his bed and Derek immediately wraps his body full around him until he has his own personal wolf-belt.  Then Derek jams his entire head under Stiles’ knees and goes back to shaking. So obviously he doesn’t think this new person is evil… or out to get them… he just can’t seem to face her.

 

Stiles glances back up to the she-wolf and is perhaps a little disturbed at the look on her face. It’s one part bemused, two parts worried, and three parts I’m-never-going-to-let-you-live-this-down… and just like that, he recognizes her. At least… the top half of her, which is the only one he’d ever had the unfortunate experience of seeing. 

 

“Oh my God! Oh my God, Laura! You’re Laura!”

 

Her gaze jerks back to him, eyes momentarily flashing gold… and suddenly Stiles thinks he might just join Derek in his silent panic attack. The bat slips out of his fingers and kind of sort of without his permission they instantly tangle in the coarse fur of Derek’s ruff. Stiles laughs and it sounds a little hysterical even to his own ears. Laura winces at the high pitch and Derek stops trembling for a second to huff against the back of his knees. 

 

“Okay… okay… heeeeeeeeeeey, Laura! I’m Stiles. Stiles Stilinski. And you’re Laura… Laura Hale. Right.  _ Derek… what the fuck is going on?” _

 

That last bit was hissed under his breath, not that it would matter to the werewolf ears in the room, but it seemed appropriate to the situation. Derek only whines in response, which is cut off sharply as another howl sounds in the distance. One that is definitely not Scott… but Alpha all the same. Derek freezes and Laura’s head turns sharply towards the window. 

 

“Look… kid… our mom is calling  us and we really need to-”

 

Stiles flails and cuts her off mid-sentence. 

 

“Your Mom!? Mom-mom? As in Alpha Talia Hale mom?”

 

Laura’s jaw drops for a second before she snarls and stomps her foot in a huff like a toddler. 

 

“How the hell do you know all this!? How do you know Derek? We’ve never spoken to you! Derek’s never so much as mentioned your name! What the fuck is going on?”

 

Stiles chews violently on his lips and tries to parse out just what kind of clusterfuck they found themselves in as quickly as he can, but nothings…. Wait. Wait. Grandma Moses. Asking him if he wants to fix a mistake. 

 

“Holy shit.”

 

“Can you please answer me?”

 

He blinks a couple times before focusing back on Laura. 

 

“Laura, I’m really sorry… but you need to go.”

 

“We will! As soon as-”

 

“Not Derek. He’s staying.”

 

Her eyes flash gold again and narrow at him. 

 

“Excuse me?”

 

After a brief swallow of the copious amount of nervous spit flooding his mouth, Stiles grimaces at her. 

 

“Sorry, really… but you’re the problem. Your family… is the reason he’s freaking out right now, so. Just let me calm him down. And then we’ll come see you. He’ll come home. Okay?”

 

Laura’s head has been slowly tilting to the side in confusion, when suddenly she jumps a little like she’s been shocked and a giant smile splits her face. 

 

“Oh! OH!! Yeah! Yes! Of course! Um… okay… okay. I’ll head home. You two just do, um… do whatever… um… hold old are you again, Stiles?”

 

He’s too concerned about her sudden change in mood before he thinks about answering. 

 

“Eighteen?”

 

She freezes for a split second and then giggles a tiny bit hysterically.

 

“Eighteen! Okay! Sure! That’s not… that’s not too… ohmygodMomisgoingtokillyouDerek.”

 

And then she’s out the window. 

 

The wolf still wrapped tightly around Stiles’ waist hasn’t stopped trembling for the entire exchange, but now… he sort of gets it. If what he thinks might have happened…  _ happened _ … well then. Fuck. He’d be freaking the hell out too if his entire family sort of just  _ popped  _ back to life. Stiles forces his fingers to relax from their grip on Derek’s scruff and slowly begins to rake through the black fur down the full length of spine. The wolf lets out an explosive breath, but slow as molasses, begins to relax.  Stiles clears his throat. 

 

“So. Big guy. Since when can you shift to a wolf? Have you been holding out on us?”

 

The massive fuzzy head tucked under his knees shakes side to side in the negative. It’s bizarrely endearing. 

 

“Did you even know you could before you just …  _ did _ ?”

 

Another head shake and Stiles calmly pulls his legs away from the wolf’s body and scoots back to tuck them up under himself. Derek’s face is exposed, and his lupine eyes are wide and glowing blue. The younger man cautiously places on of his hands flat against the brow of the werewolf. 

 

“We need to talk, Derek. And I need you back to human to do so.”

 

The Derek-wolf slowly unwinds his body and shivers once with his full frame. Just like that the fur vanishes and there is nothing but miles and miles of naked skin to be seen. Stiles croaks before he slams his eyes closed. 

 

“Naked! You’re naked! Soooo very much with the nakedness!”

 

“Stiles.”

 

Derek’s voice is rougher than normal. Sounds scared and exhausted by the same measures. Before the teenager can move to offer pants there is once again a massive body wrapping itself around him… this time sans fur.  _ And pants. Still no pants. _ Stiles’ eyes pop open just as Derek winds his arms around his shoulders and firmly presses his face into the curve of the teen’s neck. The older man takes a deep breath, a scent, and then finally seems to let his tension begin to dissolve. 

 

For his own part, Stiles can’t help but place his hands on Derek’s wide back and rub up and down the man’s spine as soothingly as his uncoordinated limbs will allow. 

 

“Okay. Alright, big guy. Let’s talk this out. I’m going to tell you what happened to me this morning…and I think it’s going to answer a lot of your questions, alright?”

 

The werewolf nodded but didn’t pull his face away from Stiles’ skin. 

 

“Right. So all I remember was waiting for my dad at the station, we were heading out to try some new vegan place that serves veggie burgers… of a sort… I mean, they wouldn’t have cheese or bread… or would they have bread? Do vegans eat all breads? Or maybe just certain-”

 

Derek growls sharp and loud against the teen’s neck and Stiles jumps.

 

“Got it. So not important right now. Anyway. Out of nowhere this little old woman was just sitting next to me. And she was kind of adorable. She totally looked like Grandma Moses. Do you know Grandma Moses? She was all tiny and frail with a shawl and a cake hat. Seriously cute, Derek. I bet she smelled like, like… cookies and cinnamon rolls… and… Mentholatum.”

 

Another growl puffed warm air across his skin. This one was more of fond exasperation. 

 

“So she starts talking about mistakes the universe has made and she gets all intense and just stares at me. All laser beam eyeballs behind her cute little spectacles. And she asks me if I want to fix a mistake. And there’s this knot in her knitting. And then she’s all  _ ‘pull the string, Stiles’  _ and I pulled it. I pulled the fucking string, Derek. And there was a power backlash, I’m sure of it, and the next thing I remember I’m here in my bed and you’re calling me on the phone.”

 

Derek had slowly begun to draw back away from him during the verbal tirade until he was finally sitting ( _ almost in Stiles’ lap he’d like you to know… still with the naked _ ) and just staring at the teen with wide, wild eyes. The older man licked his lips and Stiles fought very, very valiantly to not look down at them… because any downward look-age right now was going to bring  _ things  _ into his line of vision that he probably doesn’t want to see.   _ Maybe _ doesn’t want to see.  _ Sort of  _ doesn’t want to see. 

 

_ Nah, fuck that noise.  Honesty is key. He wants to see. He wants to see really, really badly. But he’s going to respect Derek and keep meeting his eyes. Keep… meeting… eyes.  _

 

“A mistake?”

 

“Oh thank god, you’re talking and I can stop fighting my dirty  _ dirty  _ nature.”

 

The older man blinked at him. 

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing. Yes, she said a mistake. And I pulled the string and woke up here. Where your family is alive again. All of them, I’m assuming?”

 

Nodding in a shell-shocked kind of wobbly motion, Derek finally pulled further away and Stiles shot off the bed towards his dresser and his spare pants. He flung a plain black pair of sweats toward the general direction of the bed and opened his  _ ‘shit people have left here’  _ drawer … but it was full of his own clothes. 

 

“Oh.”

 

It was a bit of a slap to the face of their new reality. He didn’t have a drawer of pack clothes… because he wasn’t part of a pack. It hurt more than he thought it would, to be perfectly honest. His soft gray shirt with the black Frank Miller’s Dark Knight logo caught his eye instead. Fuck, he’d been  _ dying  _ to get Derek into a Batman shirt for ages. It was just too fucking symbolic to be ignored. He snagged the shirt and flung it towards the werewolf, too. 

 

There was a funny sort of sigh from the bed before the werewolf starting speaking again. 

 

“Yeah. I uh… I fell asleep in the loft last night and when I woke up this morning it was to Laura bursting into my room,  _ my old room _ , at our house. She started jumping up and down on my bed and telling me to get up for breakfast the way she always did before…”

 

He trailed off, but Stiles had already whipped around to stare at the other man in shock. 

 

“ _ Jesus tap-dancing Christ _ … that must have been a total mind fuck for you.”

 

Derek burst into a crazed sort of manic giggles. 

 

“You think so? Really? Trying hearing my mom and dad making pancakes in the kitchen downstairs! And Cora playing with the twins in the living room! And my brother Erik was-”

 

“Stop! There is no way I believe that!”

 

Derek threw his hands up in exasperation and glared at him. 

 

“It’s true! They were all there! And my Grandmother-”

 

“No! No! I believe you! I’m just trying to process that you have a brother named Erik. Seriously? Seriously? Laura and Cora? Derek and Erik? Why?  _ Why _ !?”

 

The older man shrugged. 

 

“The twins are Mason and Jason.”

 

Stiles screeched and flailed himself across his room towards the computer chair. 

 

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUR PARENTS!?!”

 

That actually had Derek laughing. A relieved, little genuine guffaw that caused him to flop backwards on the bed. 

 

“I don’t know. The rest of the family constantly teased them about it… but I think my dad just found it funny. He usually just called us by the number of the order in which we were born anyway.”

 

His voice sounded so suddenly fond that Stiles couldn’t help but grin. 

 

“What’s your number?”

 

Derek made a pleased humming sound. 

 

“Three of six.”

 

Stiles hopped to his feet and walked over to the bed. He stood by Derek’s side and grinned down at him. 

 

“I think I’m going to like your dad.”

 

The werewolf met his gaze and the look on his face was so full of stunned amazement that Stiles sent up a prayer to every deity he could think of that this was real. This was here to stay. Derek didn’t deserve to have everything handed back to him like this, just for it to be ripped away again. Stiles shivered at the thought of it before he began to pace the length of his bedroom. 

 

“What I don’t understand is… if this is the universe correcting a mistake… what actual mistake did it correct? I mean, obviously your family is around now… which is awesome for you by the way. But so… did the fire never happen? Or did someone warn them in time? Or did Kate never come here? Did you never meet her? What  _ exactly  _ did I change?”

 

Derek shrugged his shoulders the best way he could while laying flat on his back. 

 

“I’m more curious as to why it left our memories intact. Wouldn’t it have been kinder to just let us be ignorant of the changes?”

 

Stiles stopped in his tracks. 

 

“But then the lesson wouldn’t have been learned.”

 

The older man popped off of the bed and quickly stepped in front of Stiles. 

 

“What do you mean? Tell me what you’re thinking.”

 

Biting his lips, the teen began to wring his hands together and flick his gaze around the room. 

 

“Okay, so … so… I created the change, right? I was the catalyst… so obviously I have to remember how it was before because I’m like… the  _ narrator  _ for the other universe. The way it was. And maybe for the way it is now. I’m like… the constant for you. The neutral middle. Get it? And maybe… maybe you remember because it’s supposed to be a lesson learned. To follow your heart instead of your hormones?”

 

Derek snarled at him and opened his mouth to speak, but Stiles quickly slammed a hand over the werewolf’s lips. Blue eyes flashed at him in challenge, but it had been ages since Stiles had been scared of Derek Hale. 

 

“No. Shut up. Listen to what I’m saying. How many times have you thought with your dick instead of your brain? Stop growling at me, asshole… you know I’m right. Ms. Blake, Kate … Paige.”

 

The mouth behind his hand went slack and Derek’s shoulders dropped low. Stiles didn’t remove his hands but shook his own head and gave a pathetic growl of his own. 

 

“Shit. I didn’t mean that. Paige was more your  _ heart _ … but it still wasn’t your  _ head _ . You know? I didn’t mean to bring her into this… but the point stands… what if you have your memories, because whatever I changed has the potential to happen again? This is your chance to prove that you’ve learned your lesson, Derek.”

 

With that he released the older man and stepped back. 

 

“So we just keep an eye out.  Catalog everything that’s different. Everything that’s the same. And maybe…  _ maybe  _ this really is the universe just giving you an apology. You know?”

 

Derek nodded and glared at the floor between his own toes. Stiles blinked. Derek’s toes. Derek had toes.  _ Well, duh… of course Derek had fucking TOES… everyone has toes. But just… Stiles had never seen DEREK’S toes… and they were fucking cute toes, okay. Really. So cute. Like, some people had long spindly toes that were nasty and creepy… or stubby fat ones with fucked up crusty nails. But these were adorable. Perfect and tiny and not too hairy and just… really fucking CUTE, alright?  _

 

“Little piggy’s.”

 

The werewolf snapped his eyes back up to Stiles’ face. 

 

“What?”

 

Stiles cleared his throat and met the gray-green gaze head on. 

 

“What, what?”

 

Derek blinked once before shaking his head and abruptly turning away to pick through the remains of the pajama’s he arrived in until he found his phone. 

 

“I still don’t understand … why you?”

 

“Gee, thanks-”

 

“I’m serious. Why not Scott? He’s the true alpha. Or Deaton? Or Lydia? Why are you supposed to be my constant?”

 

The teen crossed his arms and shrugged. 

 

“Ever consider the fact that I’m like, your antitheses? We’re opposites in almost every sense of the word, dude.”

 

Rolling his eyes in a dramatic huff ( _ which Stiles hadn’t actually witnessed him do in ages and was momentarily beset with a wave of nostalgia _ ) … Derek flipped through his phone and held it up for Stiles to see. 

 

“All my contacts were gone except for yours. Scott’s was the only other number I could remember offhand, but when I called him… he didn’t know me. Called me a creep and then hung up. I howled for Isaac, or Ethan… or anybody… but the only response I got was from my family. I think that’s what freaked L-Laura out so much. I was calling out in distress for my pack… and as far as they knew… they were already right there.”

 

With a heavy sigh, the werewolf dropped back down onto Stiles’ bed. 

 

“I don’t know how I’m going to do this. How can I be expected to just… I don’t know how to do this.”

 

Cautiously, Stiles sank down to his knees in front of the older man. He had to lean pretty far forward in order to try and meet his gaze. 

 

“Derek. This is the ultimate do-over.  You can’t feel guilt for something that hasn’t  _ happened  _ in this world. Your family. Your family is here. They’re alive! And they’re probably really worried about you right now. You have them back. Do you know… do you know what I would do to just have my Mom back for a single day? I would do  _ anything _ , Derek. And you have them all. All of them.”

 

His voice was breaking near the end and his eyes were burning with the want for tears, but instead Stiles just stood and patted the werewolf on the head once. 

 

“So let’s go check out your family, man. I’d really like to-”

 

A single conscious thought slammed into his head like a freight train, and his sentence was interrupted with a loud gasp. Before him, Derek shot to his feet and grabbed Stiles’ shoulders tightly. 

 

“Stiles?”

 

“Oh my God.”

 

The tears were really threatening to fall freely now.  _ How did he not think of … he’s so fucking stupid. _

 

“Oh my God, Derek! Allison! Boyd! Erica!”

 

Derek’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared. 

 

“We have to see. We have to go see! Stiles! Now!”

 

The teen could only nod shakily in response before spinning on his heels and darting quickly out of his room. He didn’t even realize until halfway down the stairs that he had snagged Derek’s hand as soon as he had moved to leave, and the older man had woven their fingers together to secure the grip. They flew down the steps both barefoot and in the mutual equivalent of pajamas. Stiles was awash with nerves. He was so optimistically excited. If all of Derek’s family was alive… if he’d never turned any of his beta’s… if Scott wasn’t a werewolf… 

 

He snatched the keys to the jeep and pulled Derek along to the front door. Reached for the handle… and it swung open without his fingers ever touching the knob. Stiles froze. Derek froze. 

 

The Sheriff, standing in the doorway, froze. 

 

It was a silent stand-off for way longer than it should have been. Which kick started Stiles’ brain into picturing  _ exactly  _ what his father was seeing right now. Stiles was in his pajamas. Derek was in Stiles’ clothes. They were barefoot. They were holding hands. And-

 

_ OH HOLY JESUS FUCK. THAT’S WHAT LAURA HAD MEANT! When she asked his age! When she told Derek that their mom was going to kill him! When she thought Derek was afraid to tell their family something… and the big idiot was clinging to Stiles under his fucking bed! Werewolf-naked! _

 

Stiles dropped his head dejectedly until his chin brushed his chest. 

 

“Oh, fuck.”

 

The Sheriff cleared his throat and pointedly stepped inside to shut the door behind himself. 

 

“Indeed.”

 

Derek’s hand clenched even tighter in Stiles’ and it brought him back to the present. When he turned back to look at the werewolf, the older man’s face was open shock and a little bit of fear. Which probably meant he was figuring out exactly the same thing Stiles currently was. The teen turned back to his father and grimaced. 

 

“Dad… I know you want an explanation, but-”

 

“Well, yes, Stiles, I would love an explanation. Thank you. Mostly regarding the presence of my newest Deputy, whom I didn’t even realize you knew-”

 

_ “Deputy!?” _

 

Derek and Stiles had screeched it simultaneously, but it didn’t seem to deter the Sheriff’s tirade for a second. 

 

“-and why he’s in your clothes. And why you both look like you just rolled out of bed. And especially why a  _ twenty-four year old man  _ would be rolling out of bed with my  _ eighteen year old son _ . In my house. In the Sheriff-who-is-also-his-new-bosses’ house. Would you care to explain that to me, Stiles?”

 

Stiles eyed the door. The door that his father had fortunately moved away from. 

 

“Ummmm… in a minute?”

 

And then he was flinging open the door and darting outside as quick as he could drag Derek along behind him. The Sheriff was screeching his name behind them as the pair dove into the Jeep. 

 

“I’ll tell you when I get home, Dad! I promise! But this is really, really important!!”

 

He chirped the tires when he took off from the driveway and was panting harshly by the time they whipped around the street to leave his neighborhood. The hand he had on the gear shift kind of tingled, and he realized that Derek had let go of him when they had absconded to the car. His palm felt sort of cold and itchy at the loss. 

 

When he squealed around the corner to the main road towards town, Derek frantically pointed right (the direction to Erica’s house)… as if Stiles didn’t remember.  The car was completely silent for the ten minutes it took for them to reach the cute little condo where the Reyes resided. Stiles released a slow, steady breath as he flipped the Jeep into park and killed the engine. There wasn’t any obvious movement inside, but there was a small sedan parked out front. Stiles swallowed around the lump in his throat before he turned toward Derek. 

 

The werewolf’s eyes were suspiciously glassy, but he didn’t speak, only nodded his head. Stiles’ released a puff of nervous breath before he opened the car door and pointed towards Derek. 

 

“Stay.”

 

The massive eyebrows of doom were already descending into epic bitch face when the younger man turned away and sprinted, barefoot, across the street to the Reyes’ door. He rubbed his hands nervously on his pajama pants before reaching up to ring the doorbell. A quick glance back toward the Jeep told him that Derek had actually listened, although he had hunkered down inside the cab to try and appear less conspicuous. 

 

_ Which was laughable, because when was Derek-Underwear-Model-Hale  _ ever  _ inconspicuous? Unfairly gorgeous bastard.  _

 

The door opened behind him and Stiles spun back around. Oh God. It was Erica. Old Erica. Shy and awkward… but still completely beautiful Erica. She looked so innocently confused. 

 

“St-Stiles?”

 

He could feel his face split into a trembling grin and the lump in his throat was actually physically painful. 

 

“Hey, Catwoman.”

 

Poor Erica’s eyebrows shot up towards her hairline, but Stiles knew there was no way he could ever explain anything he needed to in order for all of the crazy to make sense… so he just hopped forward and wrapped her up in the tightest hug he could imagine. Erica went completely stiff in his arms, but he simply ignored it and placed a kiss against the side of her head. 

 

“Take care of yourself, Erica… I’ll see you at school, okay?”

 

When he pulled back, her eyes were luminously large and unsure… so he smiled as warmly as he could manage before spinning on his heel and jogging back over to the car. He didn’t even look at Derek before he started up the engine and floored the gas. As soon as he was around the nearest corner and out of sight of the condo, Stiles parked the car again and turned to face the werewolf. 

 

“Okay, hit me.”

 

Almost instantly Derek was inside Stiles’ personal space. His face was plastered to the side of the teen’s neck where Erica had just been tucked against and he was breathing in deeply. The scent of his former beta, alive and well, obviously calmed Derek down considerably. The trip to Boyd’s house was much less dramatic. Stiles was not about to go in for a hug there, no way no how, but just driving past and hearing the stoic teenager’s heartbeat steady and strong seemed to be enough for Derek. So they didn’t stop. 

 

On the way toward the Argents, Stiles had another…  _ much less happy _ thought… and swung down the street towards Isaac's house. When they neared it, Derek sucked in a breath and growled softly under his breath. Mr. Lahey was outside mowing the lawn. Isaac was nowhere to be seen. 

 

“Stop the car.”

 

Stiles gunned it instead, and flew past the house and down the street.  Derek whipped his head towards him, and even in his peripheral vision Stiles could see the judgey judgement in his eyes. 

 

“No. No, Derek.”

 

“Stiles, I could hear him. I could hear Isaac crying in his room.”

 

The werewolf reached to release his seat-belt,  _ like he was dead serious gonna jump out of a moving car? What a dumb-dumb. _ Stiles snagged his hand instead and squeezed it as tight as he could manage. 

 

“NO. We’re going to take care of this, Derek, I promise. But we’re going to do it the LEGAL way. I’ll tell my Dad, we’ll get Issac away safely. I promise. I promise, Derek, but I’m not going to let you do something stupid right now and spoil whatever this is that the universe has miraculously decided to give back to you. Okay? Nod your little wolfy head if you understand.”

 

Derek huffed at the ‘wolfy’... but finally began to relax back into his seat. By the time they pulled up beside the Argents’ house, Stiles realized he was still clutching Derek’s hand, and reluctantly released it to throw the Jeep into park. For a moment Derek was blinking down at his own hand, like he hadn’t even realized his fingers had been twined with Stiles’ again. A funny little fluttering erupted in Stiles’ belly and he watched the other man flex his fingers in thought. 

 

Then Derek looked up and their gazes locked. Stiles found himself unable to break the connection. And… look… okay… objectively Stiles has always known that Derek Hale was fucking GORGEOUS, okay?  That is really fucking hard to miss… or ignore. But it’s always been this outside observation of, ‘totally hot, totally out of my league’ kind of thing. 

_ But now… Derek’s looking at him like… I mean… and like.. whatever color are the fuck his eyes? Gold, green, blue, gray? all of the fucking above? in this starbursty-kinda kaleidoscope… framed by ridiculously long, inky-black lashes and fuuuuuuuuuuuck…..  _

 

Stiles could actually feel the sudden jittery skip in his heart, and Derek’s gaze flicked away… to stare down at Stiles’ chest. His mouth parted just slightly, just enough to show his adorable front teeth  _ and HOOOOOOOOLY SHIT… Stiles needed to get a fucking grip. NO thinking about Derek Hale’s lips and mouth right this moment, brain, if you please. DOWN THAT PATH ONLY TROUBLE AND MISERY LIES.  _

 

A movement across the street had Stiles finally looking away from his werewolf companion. 

 

“Huh.”

 

Derek whipped around to see what he’d observed. Some random man they didn’t know was walking out from the house that had been the Argents to get the morning paper. Stiles immediately dug his phone out of his pocket and brought up Facebook. He searched for Allison Argent, and found a profile. Currently residing in Sacramento. The gallery revealed a happy, healthy and ALIVE Allison with her Dad… her  _ Mom… _ and several faces that Stiles obviously didn’t recognize. He let out the massive breath he’d been holding and sank back into the seat. 

 

When he glanced sideways at Derek, the other man was reclining back, as well… eyes closed and taking a couple deep breaths.  _ Jesus Christ… it was all just too good to be true, wasn’t it? Really? This had to be a dream? or at least some sort of massively detailed hallucination?  _

 

Stiles reached over the gear shift and pinched Derek’s forearm has hard as he possibly could. The werewolf jumped and glared at him, but before he could say anything, Stiles stuck his own arm out towards the man. 

 

“Now do me.”

 

Realization smoothed out the glare on Derek’s face, and he gently lifted his hand to pinch Stiles hard on the arm. _ It hurt like a motherfucker because Derek was a bastard-wolf and forgot to pull back on the strength… but the point was fucking made. It wasn’t a dream. Holy shit. None of this was a fucking dream.  _

 

******************************************************************************************

 

When they made the turn towards the Hale house in the middle of the Preserve, Stiles could practically feel Derek vibrating with nerves in the seat next to them. He rolled the Jeep to a slow halt and turned to face the werewolf. 

 

“Dude. This is your family. You have to be excited to see them, right?”

 

The older man nodded, but his eyes were still wide and unsure as he stared ahead up the gravel drive. Stiles risked losing a limb (and maybe a little dignity) by reaching forward and tugging gently on Derek’s ear. Absolutely no response followed the action. No growling, no snarling. In fact, it almost felt like the werewolf leaned a little into the simple touch.

 

“Derek?”

 

Those fucking kaleidoscopic eyes finally turned to face the teenager and Stiles smiled as warmly as he could manage. 

 

“What’s going on in your head, wolfman?”

 

Finally there was a little eye roll at that comment. Practically microscopic, but it was there and Stiles would take it. Derek shook his head a little before he bit at his lip, and then answered in the softest voice Stiles had ever heard from him. 

 

“I just… I don’t know how to face them. Knowing what I did and what happened to them. It was all my fault. How do I look my mother straight in the eye and pretend that… that everything is okay?”

 

Stiles made a little thoughtful hum under his breath before he reached over and not-so-softly smacked Derek upside the head. The werewolf turned and glared at him, eyes flashing blue in the shadowed interior of the Jeep. 

 

“Okay, first? Shut the fuck up about it being your fault. It was Kate’s fault. We’re not discussing that any further. Second… here, now… your family isn’t dead. She didn’t murder them. She didn’t use you to get to them. They’re here, Derek, and they’re waiting for you. Probably worried out of their minds about what’s going on in that ridiculously angsty head of yours. Were you always such a Debbie-downer? Is it going to be weird if you have a complete personality transplant?”

 

Derek rolled his eyes with a little more gusto this time before slumping backwards into the passenger seat. 

 

“Jesus… sometimes I forget how annoying you can be.”

 

Stiles grinned. 

 

“Thank you, asshole… now answer the question.”

 

The werewolf sighed. 

 

“I was always quiet and reserved… but I don’t think… I don’t think I’ll be able to pull this off without alerting them to something off. The last time I spoke to any of them besides Laura I was sixteen years old.”

 

He turned his eyes back to Stiles and there was a weary sadness to them that made the teenager’s heart thump painfully in his chest.

 

“I don’t know how to be a twenty-four year old that grew up happily with his family, Stiles. I don’t know how to pretend like that. They’re going to realize that something has changed.”

 

With a contemplative nod of his head, Stiles grunted in affirmation before reaching down to crank the engine of the Jeep back to life. 

 

“We’re just going to have to play this by ear, dude. It’s your family. Unless every single one of them is a creepy asshole like Peter… we should be okay.”

 

Derek snorted in amusement, albeit very quietly, and Stiles counted that as a win. With one last deep, steadying breath, he shifted into gear and slowly made his way up the winding drive to the Hale house. When it finally came into view, he couldn’t help but gasp at the sight. He only vaguely remembered what the building had looked like before the fire, having never really gone there as a kid, but it really was a gorgeous home. Huge in stature with gleaming columns and aged bricks that definitely gave off an aura of age and prestige. 

 

“Damn, dude…”

 

He couldn’t really think of anything to follow that up with, but from Derek’s soft hum in response, Stiles was pretty sure the man understood. He pulled the Jeep up next to the… HOLY SHIT! THE CAMARO! How he’d missed that fucking sex-on-wheels car. Damn it was good to see it. Stiles shot Derek an enthusiastic grin as he hopped out of his baby and ran a hand along with edge of Derek’s former transport. 

 

“Well, well… your compensation car returns.”

 

Derek made an outright hysterical noise of protest, but then the front door of the house flew open and he froze in shock. Stiles could feel his own eyebrows rocketing up towards his hairline as he watched Laura stomp down the stairs towards them in a huff.

 

“What do you mean HIS car? Derek! Have you been using the Camaro? I will rip your nuts off if you’ve touched my car.”

 

Stiles squealed internally at the look on the older man’s face. It was the adorable mix of shocked, affectionate, sad and affronted… Stiles decided then and there that he was going to love the SHIT out of Laura Hale. He grinned his smuggiest grin and turned towards Derek. 

 

“Ooooh… Der-bear… you didn’t tell me it was your sister’s car. For shame.”

 

Laura choked on her next breath… and Derek, oh my God, Derek… his face was fucking priceless. He had turned towards Stiles, almost in slow motion, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. Stiles was pretty sure that if the recently resurrected older sister hadn’t been present, Derek would have been slamming him against some sort of nearby vertical surface with extreme prejudice. 

 

As it was… the older man was distracted when Laura began to cackle with utter fucking glee.

 

“Der-bear? Oh my God, oh my God… I have to tell Cora and Erik. I can’t wait.”

 

The next second she was whipping out a smart phone and texting as if her life depended on it. Derek turned back to Stiles and growled deeply, eyes flashing. Stiles only smiled and shrugged in response. Laura already thought they were together, had most likely already spilled the beans to the majority of the Hales, and it was a decent enough cover about how they knew each other. Derek could just suck it up. 

 

Said suck-er-up-er was reaching towards Stiles, no doubt to repay his quick thinking with grievous bodily harm, when there was a creak of a board on the porch… and everyone froze again. Stiles’ gaze cautiously moved over to take in a tall, statuesque, older woman who really couldn’t be anyone else but Talia Hale. She was clad in a plain white t-shirt and dark jeans, but as she glided down the stairs she seemed as elegant as a Queen entering her throne room. 

 

Stiles gulped and took a chance. He tilted his head back and to the side, exposing his neck in a obvious show of deference. 

 

“Alpha Hale.”

 

Talia’s eyes flared red for a moment as she stepped directly up to Stiles and took an obvious sniff in his direction. With a little hum of consideration she flicked her gaze toward Derek for a brief second before returning her attention to Stiles. 

 

“Interesting that you seem to know so much about my family, and yet the only wolf I smell on you is my son.”

 

Stiles immediately turned to face Derek in the hope that the older man could save him somehow… perhaps a swift claw to the chest… but then strong fingers were gripping his chin with obvious care and turning him back to meet the alpha’s gaze directly. 

 

“Eyes toward me, please. I do understand that my son is quite handsome to look at, but we’re in the middle of a discussion, aren’t we, Mr. Stilinski?”

 

The teenager swallowed so harshly that his throat clicked and burned.  _ He was so fucked.  _ Derek was right… there was no way to lie to this woman. Her eyes flared a bright red once again and even Stiles could hear the nervous whine that tore out of Derek’s throat. There was no way in hell that Stiles was looking away from Talia Hale, but his allegiance was with Derek first, and the sourwolf was practically rattling in place with nerves. Stiles reached a hand out towards the older man, very slowly obviously, and almost instantly Derek’s fingers were threaded with his own and gripping tight. 

 

Of course, none of this was lost on Talia and her gaze began to flick and forth between them. 

 

“Laura. House.”

 

The younger woman had been completely silent for the whole affair, but now she gave an irritated scoff and was about to protest… then Talia growled sharply, and Stiles had never seen a grown woman skee-daddle away quite that quickly before in his life. Another whine came from Derek. Soft and low… but so obviously upset. Stiles took a step back out of Talia’s reach and, with great risk to his person thank-you-very-much, turned to face Derek. He snagged the back of the werewolf’s neck with his free hand and forced the other man to look away from his mother and meet the teenager’s gaze instead. 

 

“Hey… hey… the truth, okay? We’ll tell your mom the truth. Then you won’t have to pretend. It’s going to be okay.”

 

Derek nodded once, and then it was like his strings were cut. He sagged forward into Stiles, his face plunking right into the curve of the younger man’s neck. There was a deep draw of air through his nose and behind them, Talia Hale gasped softly. When Stiles turned back to meet her gaze again, he motioned with his eyes towards the woods at the far clearing from the house. 

 

“Can we talk to you somewhere without eavesdroppers, Alpha Hale?”

 

Talia pursed her lips and gave the teenager one more deep look of consideration before she nodded and began to lead the way further into the preserve. Stiles let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and patted Derek on the back gently. 

 

“Look… you gotta hold it together, big guy. I know this is all crazy, but I’m pretty sure we’re freaking your family out.”

 

The older man huffed a soft laugh into Stiles’ neck before he backed up enough to nod silently. The teen sighed. 

 

“Oh my god. I am most aggrieved, dude. Let’s just go.”

 

When he tried to squirm his fingers out of Derek’s grip, the werewolf just wound them tighter… and thus they walked into the trees after Talia holding hands like field trip buddies. Stiles sighed and watched Derek’s profile out of the corner of his eye. 

 

“Are you going to be okay?”

 

The werewolf shrugged and Stiles groaned. 

 

“Jesus fucking Christ… you’ve gone non-verbal. She’s going to flay me alive if you make me do all the talking, dude.”

 

When they caught up with Talia, the alpha was seated at a rustic picnic table in an absolutely adorable copse of trees. There was a fire pit to the side with massive logs carved into benches surrounding it. It. Was. AWESOME. And he was pretty sure that it didn’t exist in the universe they had come from, so it must have been something created by the Hales after the divergence from the fix. 

 

_ Hmm… The Fix … yes… Stiles approved of this term for the current turn of events. The Fix. Trademark. Copyright. Bitches.  _

 

He settled into the bench across from the silent woman and Derek immediately plastered himself along Stiles’ side. The teen groaned and rubbed the hand currently not being squished in werewolf fingers down his face. When he reopened his eyes, he met Talia’s intimidating gaze head on. 

 

“I’m sorry, Alpha Hale. I’m sure you must be really confused right now… about me… and about the way your son is acting. Can you… can you tell me about your Derek? What’s he like?”

 

The alpha’s eyebrows (expressively elegant just like her children’s) shot up towards her hairline, and she flicked a confused but suddenly cautious glance toward Derek. 

 

“Derek is my middle child.  He keeps to himself. When he was younger he had a cockier, more aggressive phase… but then he lost someone he cared for very much. Became more introspective. He’s more sensitive than my other children. Feels more intensely, although he hides it well. He has a very dry, sarcastic wit that reminds me of his father. He’s grounded and stoic… a backbone of this pack, just like my husband. He also seems to withhold a lot of guilt for things that he can‘t change… has no control over.”

 

Now Derek was staring at his mother with wide eyes. He looked vulnerable and fragile to Stiles… but also extremely hopeful. With a small smile, Stiles extricated himself from Derek’s grip and moved to stand. 

 

“I really don’t think you want me here for this conversation, man.”   
  


The werewolf’s head whipped around until he was facing Stiles. The teen grinned and gave him a reassuring pat on the back. 

 

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. You know where to find me if you need me. I’ve got to go face the music with my Dad.”

 

As he turned to walk away, Stiles could barely make out Derek’s soft voice choking out some words. 

 

“Mom… I did something really stupid…”

 

******************************************************************************************

 

Laura and Cora were leaning against the Jeep waiting for Stiles when he exited the woods. 

 

“Oh, come on… can’t you just let me leave in peace?”

 

The matching grins that spread across the women’s faces could have been described as wolfish… and it wouldn’t have even been metaphorically. Stiles dropped his head down until his chin almost bounced off his chest. 

 

“Of course you can’t. You’re Hales. Hales live to make my life miserable.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

Stiles squealed in shock ( _ it was a fucking manly squeal, okay? _ ) when two massive arms wrapped around him from behind and lifted him into the air. He flailed and kicked, but couldn’t get a hit on his attacker. Laura and Cora were roaring with laughter by the Jeep as Stiles screeched out threats in desperation. 

 

“I WILL PUT WOLFSBANE IN YOUR TOOTHPASTE, I SHIT YOU NOT! I WILL MISTLETOE YOUR SHAMPOO! I WILL-”   
  


“Pups, please.”

 

The arms squeezing him suddenly disappeared and Stiles hit the dirt. The girls had quieted and were staring off to Stiles’ right where…  _ HOLY FUCKING SHIT  _ … a goddamn mountain of a man was casually strolling towards them. He was tall and muscular and massive. Dark hair turning silver at the temples. Thick beard interspersed with it as well. Stiles was opening his mouth before he could even double check the words that were passing through his lips. 

 

“Oh my god… if you’re Papa Hale then everything is explained. So much.”

 

The older man actually stumbled a bit in his steps, eyes wide for a fraction of a second, before he was bursting into uproarious laughter. Stiles blinked a couple times before the arms that had previously held him captive were suddenly grasping him by his armpits from behind and lifting him to his feet as if he weighed nothing. When he turned around there was another unfairly attractive man standing behind him with a gleeful grin. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, rolling with muscles… thick expressive eyebrows. Stiles groaned. 

 

“And you must be Erik. I swear to tap-dancing Christ… you people really need to give the rest of us a chance okay? Can’t one of you be like… hideous? Or scrawny?”

 

They were all grinning at him like Stiles was a juicy piece of meat. He took a cautious step towards his Jeep. 

 

“Okay… that’s not creepy at all. I’m beginning to sense that Peter came by his dirty-bad-touch vibes genetically.”

 

It was only after the words had crossed his lips that Stiles considered he may have been giving too much away right there. But he didn’t have a chance to take it back before a familiar voice had his spine stiffening and his heart thudding in his chest.

 

“Oh? I’m afraid I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting you, young man… let alone cause such a reaction.”

 

Stiles gaze cut sharply over to the porch, from which Peter Hale was rapidly approaching. The last time Stiles had seen Peter Hale in his previous universe of residence… the older man had been trying to rip his heart out through his chest. So now… Stiles couldn’t help the way his breath stuttered and fear began to choke up into this throat. Being around the rest of this unknown Hale clan hadn’t scared him at all… but he’d forgotten for a moment that here… Peter would be alive again, too. 

 

His reaction halted Peter in his steps… and the rest of the werewolves around him immediately perked up and tensed. They were obviously confused… and Stiles really wanted to put the whole situation at ease, but he was stuck in a playback loop of the past and his voice was utterly lost to him. 

 

A sudden roar split open the silence of the clearing and birds took to the skies from the trees around them. He didn’t really have a moment to consider what that fuck was going on before Derek had practically flown out of the woods and plastered himself to Stiles back. The older man was morphed into beta shift, eyes glowing bright blue as he roared again in Peter’s direction and wrapped his arms tightly around Stiles’ chest. 

 

All around him beta-shifts popped into place and there were more claws and mutton chops and glowing eyes than Stiles could really deal with at the moment… so just let his legs go out from under him. When he sank down to the dirt, Derek moved with him, albeit much more gracefully. The werewolf remained hovering over the teen’s prone, huddled form and snarled at Peter as threateningly as possible. 

 

Stiles could understand why Derek was so upset, after all he’d been the one to find them, months ago in their former universe. Peter’s claws had just begun to pierce into Stiles’ chest when Derek had ripped him away. In the end it had been Mr. Argent that dealt the final blow to Peter Hale. Derek had been too concerned with the bleeding punctures in the teen’s torso. That had been the point that Stiles had kind of had a Derek related epiphany. 

 

They may have started out as antagonistic frenemies… but after two years and multiple near death experiences… he cared about Derek. And Derek cared about him. And now Derek was snarling and snapping at his entire, newly reunited, family because he felt he had to protect Stiles from something that scared him. Something that brought back horrible memories and near panic attacks. 

 

“ENOUGH!”

 

Talia Hale’s voice boomed out across the clearing and everyone but Derek immediately dropped out of their shifts. Peter took a step forward and Derek roared at him again. Almost instantly, Talia was up in Derek’s face and growling at him. Her eyes flashed red and even from the ground, Stiles could tell she was demanding submission. 

 

Derek snarled back at her… eyes flashing blue. Talia blinked… stunned. Laura gasped. And Cora whispered, “oh shit.” Then suddenly Alpha Hale bellowed out an echoing roar that even made Stiles want to roll over and show his belly. Around her, her family all dropped to the ground, seated with their legs folded under them and hands resting in their laps.  Only Mr. Hale remained standing, and Stiles watched as the brick shit-house of a man stepped up behind his wife and glared down at his son, his eyes glowing gold with disappointment. 

 

For his part, Derek had only hunkered down closer to Stiles, but he still wasn’t showing submission. There was a constant, low-level rumble coming from the werewolf and Stiles groaned. 

 

“Derek. Derek… please do not challenge your Alpha.”

 

He turned, stilled trapped beneath the werewolf, until he could rest a hand on the back of the older man’s neck. 

 

“Think of where we are, Derek.”

 

The rumbling growl finally stopped, but the man above him was obviously not relaxing. Stiles pulled at his neck, trying to force the older man’s gaze to drop towards him, but Derek’s glowing blue eyes just kept flicking between his mother and Peter. 

 

“Derek.”

 

Stiles squeezed as tightly as he could to the muscular neck in his grip, and finally… finally Derek’s gaze caught on to Stiles’ and held. The blue light began to slowly fade from his eyes as they just sat still, not daring to look away from each other. It took a couple moments of tension, before the tension in Derek’s shoulders began to melt away and he slowly slumped forward until he as leaning against the human teenager completely. 

 

“Theeeeere we go, big buy. Much better. Can we stand up now please? You’re fucking heavy.”

 

Derek nodded before standing gracefully, and helping Stiles to his feet. When he stepped back, however, one hand’s fingers tangled and latched with Stiles’... and he obviously had no intention on letting go any time in the near future… so Stiles just ran with it and gripped tightly back as he turned to face the Hale family in this ridiculous young adult novel that was now his freakin’ life. 

 

Talia Hale was still staring at them with a stunned, and slightly pissed off, look to her way too attractive face.  _ (Stiles has decided the Hale family must be genetic freaks incapable of passing along unattractive genes.) _ Behind her the rest of the family was slowly shifting to their feet… though no one was attempting to step any closer. A movement from the porch caught his attention, and there were two twin boys standing there, maybe about twelve or thirteen years old. Along with a strikingly statuesque older woman with silver hair and a cleverly assessing gaze. 

 

“Oooooohkay… so… Hi. I think I’m going to be heading out now-”

 

Before he could finish that sentence, Derek’s grip tightened to the point of almost crushing his fingers and Talia Hale stepped up right to his face. Her clawed hand shot forward to grip his chin like before and Stiles froze. Behind him, Derek started rumbling softly again and Stiles literally wanted to  _ bang. his. head. on. a. table.  _

 

With his mouth being slightly squished by Talia’s grip his voice came out slightly slurred when he spoke. 

 

“Shut. The hell. Up. Dude.”

 

Surprisingly, Derek did. And Talia’s eyebrows shifted a little higher towards her hairline. 

 

“You’re the Sheriff’s son, aren’t you, Stiles?”

 

He only nodded in response. Talia hummed softly, flicked her gaze over towards Derek once, but returned to staring intently at the human in her grasp. 

 

“My son wasn’t able to finish his story before he took off… but I think I understand the gist of what’s happened. It seems as though we may owe you a lot more than we can ever repay.”

 

The other Hales in the yard obviously perked up at that statement. Mr. Hale took a step closer to his wife, but Talia ignored them all and continued to speak only to Stiles. 

 

“Derek assures me that you are trustworthy, and that you know how important it is to keep our secret. And if you’re as smart as I think you are… I think you understand what exactly it is I would do to you if you break that trust and threaten the safety of my family.”

 

Stiles nodded again, noticing after that Derek had begun his low level rumble of a growl at his mother’s threat. The teenager was desperate to turn to the other man and ask him what the fuck was up with all the protectiveness all of a sudden, but he ignored it…. and Talia did as well. She finally released him and stepped back towards her husband. 

 

“I think it’s time for you to head home, Stiles. I’d like you to come back tomorrow so that we can have a proper discussion, just you and I.”

 

Fuck yes. Okay. He could totally do that.  He gave the Alpha Hale an awkward head tilt of respect and spun towards his Jeep to get the heck outta dodge, but was stopped short. Derek wouldn’t let go of his hand. Stiles glanced from their tangled fingers up to the werewolf's face, and was surprised by the uncertainty he found there.    
  


“Der?”

 

Derek’s fingers spasmed in his grip in response, but he wasn’t saying anything. He only flicked his gaze from Stiles, towards the Jeep, and then back again.  What the hell? He could tell that the older man was still nervous and tense, but this was his family. This was his home. Stiles raised his eyebrows in silent question, but Derek only closed his eyes in response and dipped his head slightly toward the ground. 

 

Out of nowhere, Talia was stepping up to her son and kissing him gently on the cheek. 

 

“We’ll see you in the morning with Stiles.”

 

That got Derek moving. He immediately started towards the Jeep and Stiles was stuck following along in a dumb stupor. Obviously Talia Hale understood her son much more than Stiles did, at this point. As he turned the engine and began to back out of the drive, he wasn’t surprised to find the entire Hale pack watching them go with various levels of confusion marring their (unfairly) gorgeous faces. 

 

Once they made it a couple miles down the street, Stiles pulled off the road and cut the engine. He turned in his seat to face the other man and waited for a few moments until Derek finally copied his actions and met his eyes. Stiles slowly shifted forward to pat his hand reassuringly a couple times on Derek’s pajama clad knee. 

 

“How are you doing, Sourwolf?”

 

Derek scoffed at the name, before he turned his head to gaze out the back window of the Jeep towards the house they’d just left behind. 

 

“I don’t know. It’s…. It’s a lot.”

 

Stiles nodded, but withheld the  _ ‘duh. obviously.’ _ that he really wanted to respond with.  Derek was a traumatized man. He’d been a traumatized man for the entire two years that Stiles had known him, with varying levels of intensity, and he had been a traumatized man since he was sixteen years old. And now, suddenly, the main factor of that, what, eight years? Of trauma? Had vanished and been replaced with the return of a full, close knit, family unit. That was like… mind fuck extraordinaire, right there. 

 

“I know, dude. But I need you to talk to me here… because… right now? You’re with me? Instead of the family you just go back? And you challenged your Alpha? And you kept slipping into non-verbal, growly-boy, and I just… don’t get it?”

 

Derek sighed before dropping his head back against the passenger window and closing his eyes. 

 

“I know why it’s you.”

 

Stiles tilted his head and waved his arms at the non-answer.

 

“That doesn’t-”

 

“I know why you’re the only one who remembers me. Why it was you that had to fix everything. Why it’s you she came to. Why I can’t… I need…”

 

He trailed off and Stiles leaned forward towards the other man. 

 

“Derek?”

 

The werewolf opened his eyes and his gaze bored into Stiles’ own. 

 

“You’re my anchor.”

 

What. The. Hell.

 

Stiles slumped back against the door of the Jeep, eyes wide, and confused as fuck. 

 

“Since when?”

 

Derek heaved out a deep breath and closed his eyes once again. 

 

“Not sure, exactly. Might have been when you held me up in the pool for hours. Might have been when Boyd died and you were there. Or when you saved Cora. I don’t know. It’s not like a switch just flips and I’m aware of it. I just started to slowly notice that anger wasn’t anchoring me anymore… but something else was. I don’t think I ever realized… until just now. When Peter scared you and I… I was ready to challenge my Mom just to get you away from him and safe.”

 

Stiles was stunned speechless, and for several minutes they sat, still and silent, in the Jeep… until he finally spun and started up the car once again. It wasn’t until he was several miles down the road, closing in on his own house, that he finally found his voice again. 

 

“We’re telling my Dad the truth… about everything.”

 

He could see Derek turn to face him in his periphery, but the older man didn’t speak, so he continued. 

 

“He handled the werewolf thing okay in the other universe.  And I refuse to start lying to him again. Plus… plus… If I’m your anchor… there are times you’re going to … need me… and I’m not going to sneak around and make excuses.”

 

They sat for several moments in silence before Derek finally whispered a soft ‘okay’ from the passenger seat. Then they were turning the street that led to his house. The Sheriff’s patrol car still sitting in the driveway, and Stiles felt his stomach drop to somewhere down around his knees. 

 

“Oh fuckfuck.”

 

************************************************************************************************

 

Let it be known to all that Stiles’ dad is fucking amazing, okay? He’s the bestest best Dad to ever Dad. Sure, there might have been some yelling and some denial… but then Derek slipped into Beta form… and then back… and then Beta form… and then full shifted into his wolf, and John Stilinski kinda just accepted it at that point. 

 

In fact, he had a harder time with the whole “universe change via a pull of a thread” thing than he did with the werewolves thing. Granted… he could SEE the werewolf in the room, so that probably made a big difference. And Derek, bastard that he was, had stayed in full shift after the last transformation, currently he was curled up around Stiles legs beneath the table. Every once in a while one of Stiles’ flails would result in his feet kicking into the giant furry body, and Derek would retaliate by nipping his calf. 

 

After a couple hours of non-stop talking, Stiles was officially chatted out. His dad was as in the know as he could be, and insisting on going with them back to the Hale house in the morning.  _ (Yaaaaaay. Fun.)  _ Stiles finally rose to his feet, intent on going to bed early after this most ridiculous and exhausting of days. He snagged Derek’s discarded clothes from the floor (technically HIS clothes) and mumbled under his breath what a ‘messy wolf’ the other man was. For his part, wolf-Derek just silently rose from the floor and moved to follow Stiles up to his room. 

 

The pointed clearing of a throat stopped them in their tracks.  Stiles turned back to his father with raised eyebrows. The Sheriff glanced down at Derek and then gave Stiles some incredulous eyebrow action of his own. Stiles scoffed loudly and flung his arms out in exasperation.    
  


“He’s a WOLF!”

 

John crossed his arms.

 

“He’s a grown man in wolf’s clothing. He’s also twenty-four years old.”

 

Stiles whole body spasmed in over-exaggerated disbelief.

 

“Dad!”

 

“I’m just suggesting he take the couch. Or we can set up the air mattress in the guest room.”

 

For a second father and son simply stared at each other in silence… one side in disbelief… the other in judgey judgement. Derek had crouched a bit behind Stiles legs with his tail tucked in close. It was that body language more than anything that brought Stiles’  defensiveness up to the surface. He leveled his dad with his best defiant glare and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“Okay, Dad, first … you’ve been awesome about this really. I appreciate and I love you. However, please allow me to pontificate some facts upon your person-”

 

The Sheriff rolled his eyes in an exaggeratedly sarcastic manner,  _ (RUDE) _ but didn’t interrupt. 

 

“-First, and foremost. I am now, currently, eighteen years of age, so even IF Derek and I were boinking like bunnies… we are within legal clearance to do so-”

 

_ (Wolves can groan in embarrassment. Just FYI.) _

 

“-however that is not something that is happening, so thank you for your defense of my virtue, but it’s as safe as can be. Second, in case you missed it in the last two hours, Derek is currently a WOLF.  So, at  _ most _ , you’re thinking that some hardcore bestiality is about to go down here. At least, some freaky furry extremist shit… neither of which I am into at ALL. Not that I’m saying there’s anything wrong with anyone else’s choice of lifestyle. As long as it’s not hurting anyone, and there’s not abuse of animals I am a-okay with people choice of lifestyle. In fact-”

 

“STILES, JUST GO TO BED, ALREADY.”

 

Grinning the grin of the recently victorious, Stiles spun on his heel and took off up the stairs with Derek practically nipping at his heels. He was chuckling as he flopped face first into bed, followed immediately after by a large furry body that plastered itself along his side. With a sigh, he turned enough so he could scratch at the furry ears of the werewolf sharing space with him. Surprisingly, Derek’s only reaction was to close his eyes and tilt his head further into the touch. 

 

“Hey…. snuggle-wolf. We’re going to get this all sorted out, you know? You should be puppy piling with your brothers and sisters… not here with me. I know we’ve been through a lot together the last couple years… but they’re your family, dude. I’m just … I’m just the spazzing teenager that’s been hanging around for a couple years. You should be there. Not here.”

 

Derek’s eyes had opened while he spoke, glowing a soft blue that highlighted the dark fur of his face in a really pretty way. The other man, wolf… whatever, didn’t signal any particular emotion in response to Stiles’ words. Only laid very still and met the human’s eyes with that ethereal blue glow.  Feeling brave, Stiles ran his fingers down the length of the wolves muzzle where the glow made his fur appear midnight blue. Then his fingers traced up under Derek’s eyes, circling to run along the edges of one furry ear. 

 

“Blue is just pretty.”

 

The whispered words came out unbidden, and Derek raised his head just enough to tilt it sideways in typical doggy inquiry. Stiles grinned and shook his head. 

 

“Nothin’, dude. Just remembering something. You gonna be able to get some sleep?”

 

The massive wolf head nodded slowly, before it returning to rest against Stiles side once more, and the teen felt the smile drifting off his face. He hadn’t been completely blind in the shift of Derek’s personality the last couple years. He had noticed it peripherally… but there was just so much other stuff going on at the time. Thinking back now… since losing his Alpha power, there had definitely been a … softening? Is that the right word? It felt like Derek had just finally started to settle into his own skin and become the man… wolf?... he had meant to be all along. 

 

Stiles hadn’t seen him much in the last six months, or so. Derek preferring to live on the fringes of Scott’s pack, rather than the middle of it. Often he would travel down to visit Cora (wherever she was residing at the moment) for a couple weeks at a time. Return looking more and more settled in his skin. 

 

There was also always an awareness that he was attracted to Derek. Even when they first met and the older man was all anger and harsh appearance, growled words and frowny faces… he was still hot as fuck. But recently… holy fuck… recently… with the soft hair, and softer sweaters… fuzzy beard and gentle little smiles that you had to catch just at the right time? Oh em mutherfuckin’ GEE. If Stiles had ovaries… they would burst. He’s honestly not sure how half the female population of Beacon Hills isn’t constantly fawning all over the man. Wolf-man. Whatevs. 

 

Derek is beautiful, is the point here. 

 

And he’s apparently Derek’s anchor now? Him? Motormouth Stiles Stilinski? He of the ‘too loud, too spazzy, too weird’ notoriety? So what does it mean? Anchor? In his limited werewolf experience… anchors that weren’t family… were usually… spouses. Romantic partners? Looooooovers. So was Derek interested in him that way now? Because let’s be honest here, Stiles would be all for THAT. Sign him up. One werewolf domestic life-partner ahoy!  He would proudly walk around town with Derek Hale on his arm. Hell yeah. 

 

Derek made a soft little snort, followed by a wolfy snore that was so adorable it almost brought a tear to Stiles’ eyes. OVARIES! Spirit… spirit ovaries? GHOST OVARIES! Yes! There we go… his ghost ovaries exploded at the cuteness. A soft sigh at the door caught his attention, but Derek remained dead to the world. 

 

The Sheriff was leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. Pointedly glancing between Stiles and Derek. Stiles offered his father the sincerest smile that he had. Trying to make it express how at ease and happy he felt with the werewolf snuggled into his side. Silently prayed that his father could understand. The Sheriff took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then ran his hands over his face a couple times. When he met Stiles’ eyes again… he simply nodded and held his hands up in surrender… before he flipped off the overhead light and gently closed the door to Stiles’ room as he stepped out into the hall. The teenager could only continue to grin after his father… but eventually the exhaustion of the day caught up with him and he drifted off to sleep. 

 

…

…

…

 

“-tiles.”

…

…

“Stiles.”

 

The teen groaned as his sleep was interrupted by the soft voice near his ear. There was a soft touch of fingers tapping at his forehead, which was really fucking annoying, before he finally mustered the strength to open his eyes. The room was still dark around them, but the moonlight from the window was bright enough to illuminate Derek’s face leaning over him. Really. Really closely over him. And yup… Stiles was awake now.

 

“Derek? What… what? It’s the middle of the night, dude.”

 

The older man rolled his eyes, but didn’t move out of Stiles personal space. In fact… he was still pretty much plastered along Stiles’ side the same as he’d been as a wolf.  _ Oh. Oh dear God in Heaven. That meant he was naked. Derek Hale was naked in Stiles’ bed. Laying beside him.  _

 

“I’m not even under the covers.”

 

Apparently growing used to Stiles’ non sequiturs in his presence, Derek only flicked his eyebrows up once in response to his outburst. To his credit, he didn’t seemed fazed at all by his own nudity. In fact, he shifted so that he could lay both his arms across Stiles’ chest and then prop his chin on top. Stiles willed his dick to behave and not make this any more awkward that he already felt it was. 

 

But now he’s thought about dicks. And Derek… Derek’s dick was probably resting somewhere against Stiles’ clothed hip.  _ Oh fuck. No no no. Calm the fuck down teenage libido. Not going there tonight. Nope nope nope. _

 

“Stiles?”

 

Taking a deep breath, he forced his body and brain to chill the fuck out and met Derek’s gaze head on.

 

“Yeah, man? What’s up?”

 

Derek’s eyes flicked away for a brief second before returning to meet Stiles. 

 

“Can you… can you count your fingers, please?”

 

Stiles could feel his heart melting at the barely whispered words. GAH! GHOST OVARIES! Derek was trying to kill him. But… he could understand the fear. This all definitely seemed far too good to be true. So he slowly brought his hands up between them, and counted out loud to ten. Ticking off his fingers as he went. When he was finished, Derek released a heavy breath and closed his eyes. 

 

“Thank you.”

 

Stiles braved reaching up with both hands to cup Derek’s scruffy cheeks between them. 

 

“I get it, Der. Anytime you need me to count for you, I will. I promise. But this isn’t a dream. This is real. As hard as that is to believe.”

 

Derek nodded his head within Stiles’ grip, but didn’t open his eyes back up. 

 

“I just… keep thinking… If I believe it. If I go home and get used to this… that’s when I’m going to wake up. And it’s all going to disappear. I don’t think I could live through that. Not again.”

 

Those words shot a painful spike through Stiles’ heart. Although he completely understood.  _ Holy SHIT did he understand.  _ Still ignoring the nudity that he knew full well was currently on display, he shifted up to lean against the headboard and pulled Derek’s head into his lap. Derek curled himself in a bit, angling his body to curve towards Stiles’. Obviously completely unbothered by his own state of undress, he pressed his face softly into the teenager’s belly. 

 

Stiles immediately began to twine his fingers through the werewolf’s thick,  _ unfairly perfect like the rest of him dammit _ , hair.  He scratched at Derek’s scalp gently before he started to comb through the dark strands and twirl them into little spirals. With each minute that went by, Derek’s body released more and more tension, until he was a melted pile of werewolfy goo in Stiles’ lap. The teen stilled, and it only took a few seconds for Derek to finally open his eyes and turn his head to meet Stiles’ gaze. The beautiful bastard looked so open and soft that the teen felt actual pain in his chest at the sight of him. 

 

“Derek… whatever happens… I’m here with you. And we’ll get through it. But even if this is some crazy detailed dream… you should be with your family. You should enjoy every second of them being here. Because if you don’t… and this does go away… you will never forgive yourself.”

 

Without permission from his brain, Stiles’ fingers began to softly trace the features of the fucking work of art in his lap. Fingertips trailing ever so gently across dark eyebrows, down a straight nose, catching slightly against a plush bottom lip. Derek’s gaze never flickered away from Stiles’ face, but his hand suddenly snatched the teen’s wrist… forcing his fingers to pause against his lips. Derek pursed them slightly, in an almost-kiss and Stiles’ heartbeat tripped into overtime. He spoke against them, voice nearly a whisper. 

 

“You’re here with me?”

 

Stiles nodded awkwardly. 

 

“Always, dude. Can’t get rid of me.”

 

Derek rolled his eyes at the ‘dude’, but instead of commenting he gracefully rolled up to his knees, out of Stiles’ lap… but then immediately returned to straddle his thighs and seat himself right back into said lap.  _ Naked. Naked naked naked. _ Stiles’ brain got hung up on the naked and he could fucking FEEL his face twitching as it started to fritz out. Derek huffed out a light laugh and settled his hands on Stiles’ shoulders. 

 

“You can look, Stiles… I don’t care.”

 

The teen slammed his eyes shut for a moment. 

 

“Fuck, Derek… you just gave open permission man, I’m not going to be able to stop myself now. The willpower doth escape me.”

 

Derek hummed softly and then moved his hands to cradle the back of Stiles’ head, fingers tickling through the hair at the nape of this neck. 

 

“It’s okay, Stiles. Look at me. Touch me. I want you to.”

 

Taking a deep breath and then slowly releasing it, he opened his eyes. The sculpted and darkly haired chest that was level to his eyes made him groan loudly. 

 

“OH my god… you are so fucking unfair, dude. I have a teenage libido. You can’t hold it against me if I get blindingly hard right now, okay?”

 

Derek actually laughed at that and it made his belly clench, defining his abs even more than they already were. Stiles couldn’t stop himself, and his hands shot forward to rest against the furred stomach. He swept them across the warm skin to Derek’s sides, until they slipped down to settle on the other man’s obliques. 

 

With a deep breath, Stiles allowed his gaze to track down Derek’s body and take in… the rest of him. 

 

“Oh, wow.”

 

Derek had nothing,  _ absolutely positively nothing _ , to be ashamed of. Holy cow. Compensation car not needed. Feeling slightly pervy for the intensity of his stare, Stiles lifted his gaze back up to meet Derek’s own. The werewolf was flushed pink across his cheeks and the tips of his ears.  _ GAH! NO! Too cute! Send help! _

 

“Fuck, dude. You are so unfair… really. Really unfair.”

 

The werewolf in his lap smiled and slowly began to lean down, telegraphing his intentions pretty fucking clearly. Stiles groaned as soon as their lips touched, opening his mouth immediately to deepen the kiss, which apparently didn’t faze Derek at all. Most of Stiles’ previous experiences had been rushed, teenage fumbling… but this… holy FUCK… THIS was … transcendental. 

 

Derek’s fingers slipped up into his hair, and then grasped tightly. Pleasure rocketed right down Stiles’ spine all the way to his toes. His toes literally fucking curled in pleasure. Derek pulled back from the kiss to bite gently at Stiles’ chin. His eyes were glowing blue, crinkled slightly at the edges in delight, and Stiles could only smile back at the older man in pure euphoric happiness. 

 

He had kissed Derek Hale. And he would probably be doing more than that in the days to come. 

 

“Awesome.”

 

Derek hummed a sound of agreement. Then he flopped gracefully sideways ( _ which Stiles would never have managed in a million years _ ) and tucked himself into the teenager’s side. His head resting in the nook of Stiles’ shoulder, he took a deep breath through his nose, obviously taking in the amazing scent of Eau de Stilinski. 

 

Stiles was hit with an unexpected yawn, and settled more comfortably in the bed, winding himself tightly around Derek until they were a pretzel of limbs. He ran his fingertips gently down the older man’s arm until he could grab his hand and bring it up to press a kiss against the (a _ dorably hairy _ ) knuckles. Fuck. Stiles was in big trouble. Even the dude’s fingernails looked cute to him. 

 

“This is real.”

 

Derek’s voice had been so soft that Stiles nearly missed it. In response, he brought the hand firmly clasped in his own up to his chest, where he could rest them both against his heart. 

 

“Yeah, dude. Totally real.”

 

The werewolf huffed in fond exasperation. 

 

“Stop calling me dude.”

 

Stiles grinned as he drifted off into sleep because… yeah… never gonna happen. 

 

...

 

The Sheriff had some choice words about being exposed to his Deputy’s…. assets… in the morning… but he’d just have to learn how to deal. 

 

THE END.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come join me on Tumblr if you want! Say Hello! [bunnymaccol](http://bunnymaccool.tumblr.com/) @ Tumblr, too.


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